Adora's eyebrows lift in a look of faux-offense, before quirking impishly. "I'm sorry, are you asking me to beat you with a mop? Because I totally could beat you with a mop." She closes one hand around the handle, fully prepared to wrestle it from Catra's grip in what may well turn into an all-out tug-o-war-- but then she remembers how very wet the mop is, and how long it took to get the both of them and this room dry, and reconsiders. A change of tactics might be in order.

"Ahh!" She suddenly yanks her hand away from the mop, instead using it to point at the floor behind Catra in horror-- "Is that a mouse?!"